


invisible strings

by nuesteens



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Best Friends to Lovers, M/M, jigyu if u squint rly rly hard, mentioned booseok, mentioned jihan - Freeform, my inner demon whispered boochan exes so here we are, other SVT members are mentioned - Freeform, song inspiration: invisible string
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuesteens/pseuds/nuesteens
Summary: “pink, like the cotton candy at the fair on our first date. orange, like the juice i spilled on his shirt when we bumped into each other. silver, like the highlights in her hair when we were sixteen.”soulmates (n.) — two souls connected by a string of a specific color that is only visible at the most significant points of the emotional bond, but invisible otherwise.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Lee Chan | Dino
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	invisible strings

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [invisible string](https://open.spotify.com/track/6VsvKPJ4xjVNKpI8VVZ3SV?si=8xxizyGUSOuCuMJ0YpSxrw), from taylor swift's latest album, [folklore](https://open.spotify.com/album/2fenSS68JI1h4Fo296JfGr?si=dwRs5ZcpSs6J0PRvqOn7Iw) ♡ (it's an Amazing album btw pls give it a listen)  
> also, big big thanks to ja and chai for helping me make this fic happen ♡ u both have my heart; ily

zero.

_soulmates (n.) — two souls connected by a string of a specific color that is only visible at the most significant points of the emotional bond, but invisible otherwise._

“hyung, do you know what your color is?”

the question makes jeonghan pause, and he smiles slightly before answering. “not yet, actually, but i’d like to think it would be blue. though any color would be fine, really, because i know it’s shua on the other end of the line.”

“blue?”

“blue,” he confirms. “blue, for the oceans we have to conquer.”

“how do you know it’s with shua-hyung then, if you’ve never seen it?” 

at this, jeonghan hums, reaches out to ruffle chan’s hair, and says, “you don’t have to see something to know that it’s there, channie. i look at shua, through shitty internet connection and a sixteen-hour time difference, and i just know. because even across entire continents, i see him and it feels like coming home.”

chan looks at his wrist, imagines his own string extending to who-knows-where, and wonders, not for the first time, where it leads, who would be on the other end, and how would it feel to finally, finally, come home.

* * *

one.

chan is six, and he is alone.

chan knows that he must look weird for bringing a book to the park, but honestly, today, he couldn't care less. he is just getting to the best part of the story, so logically, the book must now be with him anywhere he goes, even out to a picnic with his cousins. so while his cousins jihoon and seokmin play with other kids in the grass, he stays on the blanket and reads.

he is distracted from his reading by a ball rolling towards him, hitting his legs with a soft thud. "sorry!" an unfamiliar voice calls out. he looks up to see a brown-haired boy walking in his direction. he puts his book down and stands up to meet him.

"it's fine," chan says distractedly, too preoccupied with sizing the boy up. the stranger seems to be about his age, and a small part of chan can't help but think that this new boy seems slightly out-of-place. 

"are you new here?" chan asks impulsively. then, remembering his manners, he adds, "i'm chan."

the boy nods in response to chan’s question, smiling shyly. “hello,” he returns. "i'm hansol."

* * *

two.

chan is fifteen, and he is bored.

in his defense, he’d been stuck doing nothing for the past thirty minutes, and while hansol has the tendency to do everything slowly (chan would know this, having been friends with him for nearly ten years now), chan doesn’t think he’s ever waited for hansol for this long before.

“sorry, sorry,” his best friend’s voice breaks his train of annoyed thoughts. chan looks up to see hansol in his teal shirt, sliding a cup of frozen yogurt towards him. “apparently mingyu-hyung tripped and spilled a bucket of water as he was leaving his house so he had to clean it up which made him late to work so i couldn’t leave because i had to cover for him so–” 

chan cuts off hansol's rambling by reaching out and poking his cheek, smiling despite himself. he reaches for the cup of frozen yogurt in front of him (just the way he likes it, with chocolate syrup and marshmallows on top), and says, “fine, fine. you’re forgiven, as long i don’t have to pay for this.”

the two head out in the summer sun, walking in comfortable silence. chan can’t help but think of how much he enjoys spending time with hansol like this, doing nothing productive but somehow not feeling like he’s wasting time. suddenly, hansol turns to chan and says, “we might have to move back to new york, did you know?”

chan feels something very heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. no, he thinks, he most certainly does not know. 

“when?” he asks, his throat feeling uncomfortably tight. then, after a few moments, “why?”

“it’s something with dad’s work, something like his company wanting him back there.” hansol looks at chan, and adds, “they want him back by next year.”

“you can’t leave me, sollie,” chan says, sounding slightly helpless, “can’t you stay?"

"it’s not even final yet, channie, we might not even have to leave anytime soon. who knows, maybe i'll still get to finish high school." hansol tries to be reassuring, but to chan’s ears, he still sounds unconvinced.

* * *

three.

chan is eighteen, and he is tired.

frankly, he didn't expect jet lag to feel like this. he leans his head against the cab window, fully intending to get at least a few minutes of sleep before they get to joshua's house. as he closes his eyes, he registers the sound of hansol softly humming along to the tune of some american pop song.

even as he drifts off into sleep, chan can’t help but think of how grateful he is to still have hansol with them for this. by some miracle (hansol had called it luck, when he called chan to tell him the news, but chan firmly believes that it’s a miracle), hansol’s family decided to postpone their move by another year, allowing hansol to finish high school with the rest of his friends first.

however, chan still hasn't quite made his peace with the fact that the one thing he'd dreaded the most for the past few years would soon be reality, so he was determined to make this trip count. hansol wouldn't even be coming back to seoul with the rest of them; after their two weeks in LA, he is to catch a flight straight to new york, to rejoin his family and begin his new life there.

on their last night in LA, joshua suggests a trip to the beach. they build a campfire, and once they get the fire blazing, the group sits in a circle to roast marshmallows and reminisce about high school.

chan finds himself looking at hansol across the fire, the light reflected in the other's eyes, and realizes that he has never felt quite this lucky before.

* * *

four.

chan is twenty, and he is enchanted.

chan is currently in new york, spending winter break with hansol and his family, and though it had taken him hours to convince his parents to allow him to go on this trip, chan knows that all those hours were worth it. 

during the past few days, hansol had brought him around, taking pictures everywhere in the city and eating all the food he could possibly try. once, hansol had taken him to this small cinema near his house to watch a rerun of this old american film, and then they had gotten lunch at hansol’s favorite spot, eating burgers and drinking milkshakes while chan teased hansol for looking like one of the leads in the film.

they spent christmas in the comfort of hansol’s home, exchanging gifts and trading stories as they sat around the breakfast table. sofia never seemed to run out of stories of new york to tell chan, and chan had just many of seoul to tell her.

with only a few minutes left until the new year, hansol had pulled chan away from his family and brought him to his room, and they stood side-by-side on the balcony as the rest of the world counts down to the new year.

the clock strikes twelve and the fireworks start, and chan looks up in wonder, watching the colors bloom across the new york sky.

suddenly, chan feels hansol's hand on his cheek, and turns to him. he looks up at his best friend and finds hansol staring at him with an expression he can't exactly decipher. chan watches as hansol seems to move in slow motion, leaning down to close the distance between them.

chan feels frozen in time, his senses tuning out everything, leaving him with nothing else to focus on but the sound of the loud thumping in his chest, the feeling of hansol's hand on his face, and the sight of the fireworks reflected in hansol’s eyes as he moves closer and closer, until –

until sofia opens the door, jumps on the bed, and demands that they celebrate with her instead.

they jump away from each other, and chan watches as hansol indulges her sister's wishes, his heart beating frantically and his mind struggling to keep up with what almost happened.

* * *

five.

chan is twenty-two, and he is drunk.

drunk, like actually, well-and-truly-past-his-alcohol-tolerance drunk, and if jeonghan could just see him now, chan thinks his hyung would be very proud. or extremely disappointed, but honestly, at this point, chan’s a little too drunk to tell, or even care.

drunk, like he’s never allowed himself to be drunk before, but it’s jihoon’s birthday and mingyu can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. also, hansol had arrived back in seoul a few weeks ago, and chan had been valiantly (and rather successfully, at least in his honest opinion) avoiding him for the past few weeks. chan figured that instead of spending the night alone watching dramas and praying hansol doesn’t try to contact him, he’d spend tonight enjoying himself and praying hansol doesn’t show up, just for a change.

technically, chan had been avoiding hansol for the past two years, but it was definitely easier to make excuses about his workload and schedule and other imaginary obligations when he was talking to someone a continent away. he'd kept enough for the both of them, of course, cursory greetings and the occasional rushed conversation, just enough to convince himself that they hadn't lost the friendship they had before. now, hansol was here again, and running away from him was about to get around a hundred times more difficult. 

chan thinks back to the last time he and hansol were together, to the night under the stars on a balcony in the middle of a new york winter, and feels something within him ache. somehow, he feels like he's been lost since then, looking for himself in a million different places. he was hurt, and is hurting still, though if it was for the love he almost found or the friendship he almost lost, chan doesn't think he can really say.

he is about to reach for another shot when he feels a hand on his shoulders. he whirls around, confused, and comes face-to-face with (oh, would you look at that) hansol, his face creased with worry. 

chan feels himself sober up very quickly, almost as if he’d been splashed with cold water.

hansol hesitantly smiles, lifts his shoulders in a shrug, and says, “i thought i might find you here, jihoon-hyung’s my hyung too, you know.”

chan closes his eyes, sighs, and asks, “what do you want?” 

hansol opens his mouth to answer, seems to think better of it, and closes his mouth again. after a few beats, he reaches out to chan, saying, “come on, channie, let’s get you home.”

chan wants to say no, doesn’t want to exchange a few more hours of drinking and dancing for awkward silence and stilted conversation, but this is hansol, and chan has always been powerless against this boy.

he allows hansol to lead him out of the bar, after calling out farewells to their friends and greeting jihoon for the last time. as they step out in the winter night, he lets hansol wrap his wool coat around his shoulders.

as they walk to his apartment, chan wonders if he should say anything to break the silence. attempt to explain his absence, maybe, or apologize for his actions. but it had been so long since he’d had hansol by his side like this, and the quiet feels more comforting than suffocating, so he lets it be. 

it’s only when he is in bed, with hansol about to turn away to leave, that chan speaks again. 

“stay,” he says, eyes closed. he says it so softly it shouldn’t have been heard at all, but this is hansol, and he’s always been able to hear every single little thing chan has to say, and more.

chan feels him sit on the edge of the bed, reach out to cup his face, and press a kiss to his forehead. chan feels himself relax, his tired body ready to give way to sleep, and almost misses the way hansol leans back down to press the smallest of kisses, feather-light, to his lips.

chan vaguely registers a faint light coming from somewhere in the room, and opens his eyes to a gold light that seems to wrap around them. hansol pulls back, eyes wide, and that’s when chan sees it: a single thread of gold tied around his best friend’s wrist. when chan lifts his own, he finds the other end.

chan lets out a breath he had no idea he’d been holding. hansol decides to stay.

* * *

six.

chan is twenty-five, and he is healing.

“channie, you do know you’re my favorite ex, don’t you?” seungkwan asks drunkenly, his words slurring.

“yes, actually, you’ve told me that ten times tonight,” chan replies. as hansol starts laughing loudly, chan takes seungkwan’s wrist and leads him away to look for seokmin, saying, “you know you’re my favorite ex too, boo, so now let’s go find your fiance, yes?”

in hindsight, his decision to date seungkwan could probably count as one of his more questionable choices in this lifetime. after all, he'd known seungkwan for years, had grown up with him the way he grew up with hansol.

but chan supposes that college tends to make you do questionable things, and his relationship with seungkwan had certainly resulted from a series of questionable events: they had gotten drunk in their dorm room, cried to each other about their respective problems (namely, the way chan missed hansol terribly and the way seungkwan's feelings for seokmin were unrequited), and then decided to try dating each other. no real feelings or expectations, they said. just for fun.

and it was, for around a few weeks, until they decided they were truly better off as friends, and then they broke up. so yes, while dating seungkwan had seemed crazy at first, chan had enjoyed the experience, and he'd gotten a few more stories to laugh about while hanging out with his friends.

which, chan realizes now, is much much better than he could say about his other exes.

sometimes, he recalls the person he was a few years ago, when he would've given anything to find out where his soulmate was. thinks back to the failed relationships (they were more entanglements than commitments, really), to the people he spent his days and some of his nights with, hoping and wishing with his entire heart that he'd connect with them on a level that was more than physical.

it got even worse after his almost-first-kiss with hansol, when he'd felt even more desperate to figure out the answers to the questions in his head. almost as if he became desperate in his denial, in his wish to prove his past (and maybe even his present) self wrong. back then, chan was nearly reckless in his desire to prove that on the other end of the string on his wrist was anyone, besides his best friend, his constant, his brown-haired, starry-eyed boy.

he's glad those days are over. it had been nearly two years since they got together, and sometimes, chan still finds it a little hard to believe that they've gotten to where they are. he and hansol have their ups and downs, for sure, their fair share of arguments and petty fights, but chan is certain that at the end of everything, they'd always find their way back to each other.

hansol feels like certainty, and for this, chan feels beyond thankful.

* * *

seven.

chan is twenty-seven, and he is content.

hansol places his hand on chan's cheek and pulls him in for a kiss, to the loud applause of all their family and friends. as they pull away, chan can't stop himself from smiling at the sight of the thread running from his best friend's (now his husband's; he still can't quite believe they're at this point now) wrist, wrapping around their bodies and bathing them with a golden glow.

chan looks up at hansol, at the boy he has known for twenty years and loved through six thousand miles, and it feels like coming home.

 _gold_ , chan thinks. _gold, like the fireworks in his eyes the night i realized i was in love._

* * *

_and isn't it just so pretty to think_

_all along there was some_

_invisible string tying you to me?_

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/_nuesvt) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jigyuisms)!  
> also: stream folklore !! and stan taylor swift she is my queen


End file.
